


One Step Closer Every Time

by Seicchanart



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cunnilingus, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, absolutely no plot the third, bitching about work etc, how do i tag this ummm, idk man, this is like a normal au, well the setting is hardly important here but yknow, where theyre just ada rachel dawes and dr jonathan crane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:27:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29094996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seicchanart/pseuds/Seicchanart
Summary: The hard wood of her desk is digging into Rachel’s back, but the only thing she can look at are the bright blue eyes of the man in front of her.
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Rachel Dawes
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	One Step Closer Every Time

The hard wood of her desk is digging into Rachel’s back, but the only thing she can look at are the bright blue eyes of the man in front of her. His arms are braced against the table on both of her sides, he’s caged her. She doesn’t say anything as he slowly extends one hand and grabs her jaw roughly.

She doesn’t say anything as he runs his thumb across her bottom lip, as he digs his fingernail into it. It stings, and after a short while of pressing, Rachel can feel the skin of her lip break, feel the drop of blood run down his finger.

She lets out a shaky breath when he retracts his hand and laps up her blood. Crane looks up to her, cold hunger in his eyes, and then he turns around and leaves without a word.

Rachel is left with a bleeding lip and a throbbing ache between her legs.

.

The next time it’s in his office. She’s pressed up against the wall, her cheek rubbing against it uncomfortably. He doesn’t give her any space; Crane is pressed up against her, chest against her back. 

His hand is tangled into her hair, and he pulls, and lets out a satisfied hum when her breath hitches. Crane runs his hands over her sides, and she basically _leans_ into his touch. Rachel’s cheeks feel hot and her head is spinning. It’s so tight, he’s so close - and the next thing she knows, it’s over again.

Rachel stands awkwardly in the corner as he picks up the phone, starts talking to whoever is on the other end of the line.

(She hadn’t even heard it ring.)

.

He doesn’t even bother talking to her, this time. He simply walks into her office as if it belonged to him, and backs her into the table, pushing her down onto it once her thighs come into contact with the wood.

Rachel is fed up with this, and she is aching for more. She both wants to slap and fuck the man bent over her.

“You’re bold.”

It’s the first time she’s ever said anything during their “encounters” and the surprise on Crane’s face quickly makes way for a grin.

“I don’t have anything to lose, now, do I?”

She can think of plenty of things she could make him lose (his pride, his front teeth, his job, perhaps), but instead of saying anything in return, she yanks him closer by his tie, and kisses him hungrily.

It’s the first time they ever kissed.

.

Rachel feels like prey being stalked when he looks at her, and she hates the thrills it gives her. It’s the only reason she lets him close, the only reason she lets her guard down, lets him get one step closer every time.

She’s pressed against his desk, and adrenaline is rushing through her veins. It’s always riskier in his office; a lot more people wanting to talk to him, whether in person or on the phone.

His hand on her back presses down, presses her into the cold wood, and Rachel feels like she can’t breathe. Crane bends forward, bites into her neck, and she has to try her hardest to bite back the noises threatening to spill out of her.

Long, cold fingers slide under her skirt, up her thigh, and Rachel shudders. It’s dangerous, _so_ dangerous, and she hates how much it turns her on. When the fingers press onto her underwear, she lets out a small moan after all, and she can feel his lips smiling, pressed onto the crook of her neck.

He wrecks her every time.

.

She doesn’t believe in God, yet now she curses every higher being she can think of for putting her in this situation. 

They’re at a party, a high class event that bored the life out of both her and Crane (one of the little things they have in common), and in an empty hallway, Rachel is pressed up against the wall, biting her bottom lip raw.

Her mind feels fuzzy from the wine she had drank, and Crane’s fingers between her legs certainly aren’t helping.

(They had snuck away together, and Rachel regrets it now. It would be _so_ easy to get caught here, it would just take one person walking away from the party as they had, and both their lives would be ruined.)

Crane’s fingers push under her underwear, rub over her already drenched slit. It’s embarrassing, but it already takes Rachel all her willpower to control her voice, to keep it down. Her legs are shaking, and suddenly she’s thankful that his body is pressed so close to hers. He’s keeping her steady.

His fingers rub over her clit, and Rachel gasps. Crane quickly presses his other hand over her mouth, and the only thing she can do is tremble in his grasp.

“ _Shut up._ ”, he hisses into her ear.

It’s annoying, _he’s_ annoying, but she’s aching for release so bad that nothing else matters. His fingers start rubbing circles around her clit, and she can feel tears of overstimulation rise in her eyes.

He makes her cum, right there, pressed against the wall, and Rachel feels as guilty for it as if she had committed a crime.

.

Crane locks the door to her office behind him, and a jolt of anxiety rushes through Rachel’s veins. He walks over to her, takes his glasses off and puts them into one of the shelves. He doesn’t say anything, but Rachel feels in the air that today is the day.

(She’s been waiting for this for a long time, and she swallows down the guilt she feels for it.)

Without wasting any more time, he presses his lips onto hers, and Rachel threads her hand into his hair. It’s soft, she notices, and wonders why she’s never touched it before. He pushes her down onto the table, like so many countless times before, and Rachel starts to feel lightheaded again.

His hand runs up her side, cold fingers rubbing over her neck. He digs his fingernails in and she swallows down a gasp. Her face feels so hot she can only imagine the shade of red it is right now.

Everything shatters when there’s a knock on her door. Crane steps away from her quickly and Rachel does her best to rearrange her clothes and go to unlock the door again before letting out a strangled “Yes?”

The door opens, and her boss, Carl Finch, stands there.

“Uh, yeah I just wanted to ask-”

He stops when his eyes fall on Crane and his eyebrows knit together. Crane just smiles at him politely, and Rachel wishes she could throttle the man. He could at least help her here.

“We were just talking about the… case, Carl. What do you need?”

Carl nods slowly, and his eyes wander between Crane, his glasses on her shelf, and her. He coughs awkwardly, and nods again.

“Alright. Uh. Just come to my office when you’re done here?”

He leaves, and Rachel can barely stop herself from slapping Crane for the amused grin on his face.

.

Her hand is trembling, and she’s cursing to herself.

Crane had left his number for her before he left, slipped it into her pocket and grinned at her, before leaving without a word; like he always did.

She really shouldn’t be doing this. Every time, she ends up letting him get too close, and it’s more and more dangerous the more they do it.

(She thinks about the weird look in Carl’s eyes when he looked at her for the rest of the day, and wonders if their little secret already wasn’t that much of a secret anymore.)

Rachel ends up sending Crane a text after all, after a long fight of her pride against her need. She tries to push away the thoughts about coming off too needy when she immediately sends him her address once he asks.

(She feels like she shouldn’t let him know where she lives, but she’s too desperate to wait any longer. Guilt rises in her again, and she wonders what her younger self would think about her now.)

This train of thought is crudely interrupted when she remembers the worn out underwear she put on this morning, and she runs to her bedroom to change it. She feels ridiculous, behaving like a schoolgirl with a crush.

.

It takes him two more hours to arrive, and Rachel is almost sure he’s toying with her on purpose. That’s what he likes to do the most, after all.

She wants to curse at him, tell him to go home again, but when he stands in her door, brushing his hair out of her face, nothing else matters anymore. Rachel almost drags him into her bedroom by his tie, and she is quick to push him onto her mattress, straddling him.

“Eager, are we?”, he chuckles, and Rachel only frowns in response, yanking at his tie to get it off. “I haven’t even taken my shoes off.”

He pushes her off him, and holds her by the neck while he takes his shoes off with the other hand. His grip is tight; she feels like she’s going to go insane. Now he’s on top of her, and Rachel feels her pussy throb at the look in his face. It has something wild, something carnivorous, something with such a stark contrast to his usual bored mask.

(She’s going to get devoured tonight, and it’s worrying that she doesn’t seem to mind that one bit.)

He takes off her clothes, one by one, dragging his nails across her bare skin. Rachel is left a panting mess once she’s only in her underwear, and they haven’t even started yet. Crane smiles, and for the first time, she feels like it’s genuine.

“Can I tie you up?”

Before she can properly think, she nods eagerly, and his smile only gets wider at that. He has her in his trap, and it’s right where she wants to be. With movements that seem almost clumsy, he wraps his tie around her wrists, around her bedpost, and just like that, Rachel is completely trapped. She loves it more than anything else in the world.

Crane moves his attention down, and she watches in awe as he pulls down her panties. There is a small thread of fluid connecting them to her flesh still, and it breaks apart when he slides it down her legs. 

Rachel suddenly notices that it’s a bit cold in her bedroom, and she shivers as his fingers, cold as always, glide up her thighs, slowly, torturously. He spreads her legs, and looks up to her almost as if to check on her, before he lowers his face, pushing his lips onto her pussy.

She bites down on her lips as Crane parts her folds with his fingers, and whines as he drags a stripe over her with his tongue. Rachel wishes she could grab his hair, push him into her deeper, but as things are, she can only throw her head back and try to control her voice as he eats her out.

She comes apart earlier than she would’ve thought, and feels almost embarrassed at how eager she is. It’s hard to feel anything but bliss though, when his tongue is still rubbing over her while she cums, hips trembling beneath him.

Crane doesn’t stop there either, and after a few more minutes of torturous overstimulation, she has to _beg_ him to stop. When he lifts his head, grins up to her, Rachel’s blood feels like it’s boiling in her veins.

(She wants him so badly, she doesn’t think she can stay sane any longer.)

“ _Please._ ”, is the only thing she manages to say, and Crane’s eyes lit up in sadistic glee.

He bends down then, grabs his jacket from besides the bed and takes out a condom from his pocket. Rachel laughs at that quietly, as she finds it weird to imagine the man buying condoms, but he ignores it.

Crane pulls his dick out of his pants, lets them hang from his thighs, and after a short while of fiddling with the condom, he’s on top of her again. She looks at his face, watches him lick over his lips quickly, as she feels him press into her entrance.

It burns for a small moment, but the ache is quickly gone, and they groan in unison. It feels almost unreal, to have him inside of her after all this time, after all the days they spent arguing and making out.

When he starts to move, Rachel finds she can’t control herself anymore. Her hands are desperately ripping at his tie binding her to her bed, and her thighs are quivering uncontrollable.

She hasn’t been with a man like this in a long time (neither with a woman for that matter), and she only now notices how much she has missed it. Maybe that is the reason she let him so close to her in the first place.

Crane kisses her, and she can taste herself on his lips as she grinds into his thrusts. She knows she will regret this in the morning, but for now, she’s keen on enjoying this as long as it lasts.

Rachel loses track of time then, feels his hands claw at her sides, his teeth brushing over her skin. She squeezes her eyes shut, tries to concentrate on meeting the thrusts of his hips with a roll of her own, but a strangled groan he lets out pushes her over the edge again.

She is still riding out her orgasm when she can feel him come undone on top of her. It makes her shiver, feeling his erratic breath on her neck.

It’s over then, and Rachel feels drained, but in a good way. Crane stands to get cleaned up, and she even forgets to ask him to untie her before she falls asleep. The punishment for pulling two of all nighters that week, she guesses.

When she wakes up the next morning, he is still there, lying next to her.

**Author's Note:**

> this is the worst thing i've ever written, and i'm not talking about quality here


End file.
